Paradise Found

First of all, thank you so much for all your reviews for this story. It thrills me to read each one.

Also, I apologize for the long wait. My life is now settling down to something more manageable, so I’ll be able to work on this and hopefully my other fictions as well. I hate having so many unfinished projects.

I have to hold myself back from starting new ones because I often get new plot bunnies hopping around in my head.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Thank you to Michelle, my busy Beta, who took time out to help me. You’re the best!


A Spade is a Spade


Harry stormed out of the library, deadly and sure, with many of his Slytherin followers trailing behind him, wands ready. Others backed against the wall of the long hall as they passed, eyes wide at the rage on the Dark Lord’s face.

Draco and Dumbledore followed a few steps behind him out of the library, signaling to anyone still in the library to leave Lady Marlston resting in quiet. When everyone had left, Dumbledore closed the door.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore began as the rest of the bystanders moved off to either follow Harry or return to the ballroom, “I must say that I am disappointed with you at the moment. Encouraging Harry’s anger when he has worked so hard to keep it under control….”

Draco’s head turned toward the old wizard, glaring at him in disgust. “Did you see what they did to her?” he growled, pointing toward the closed library door.

But Dumbledore’s attention was caught elsewhere. He lifted one finger, cutting off Draco’s rant. Sidestepping towards the closed library door, he placed his ear against its smooth wood.

The hall was growing quiet, now that everyone had left to hunt vampires, but frantic whispering could be heard within the library.

Dumbledore glanced at Draco, whose eyes widened when he heard the sounds as well. Draco stepped quickly up to the door, wand ready, and yanked it open.

The old and the young wizard strode in, looking about for intruders, but only saw Hermione lying on the sofa and Bugger on the ground, both still unconscious. The ticking of the clock on the mantle was the only sound now audible.

“Curious,” Dumbledore said. “I could have sworn there were voices in this room. You heard them too?”

“Yes,” Draco replied, confused. “We won’t leave her alone again. Strange things are happening.” The walls and ceilings cracked and groaned. Draco went to Hermione’s side and sat on the very edge of the sofa, cupping her cheek with one hand. “Everything will be all right, love.”

Poppy Pomfrey suddenly Apparated into the room, a house elf holding one of her hands, and rushed over to the sofa. She held a flask in her hand. “The Marlston elves are quite proficient. I must say I’m very impressed at how quickly they can carry out their orders. Everything we needed was right before me.”

Draco stood and let Madam Pomfrey take his place at Hermione’s side. Lifting the flask to her lips, she gently coaxed the liquid down, massaging Hermione’s jaw. As she swallowed, the potion began its magic, turning her skin back from deathly white to her own creamy color.

Draco smiled as he observed her improvement and knelt down beside her head. “It’s working?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“It appears so,” Madam Pomfrey replied, relieved. “Though she may need more rest to recover fully. There is…”

“What? There is what?” Draco asked, worriedly. He didn’t care for the frown the medi-witch was now displaying.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, heavily. There was no beating around the bush with this. “We must find out if she has, well, ingested any of the vampire’s blood in return.” She avoided looking at Draco’s face as she tended to Hermione, knowing she had not planted a happy thought in his mind.

“Oh, Gods! Are you saying she could turn into one of them?” Draco asked, horrified.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore interrupted, “listen.”

They were silent, noticing for the first time that the house had now ceased creaking and groaning. Draco smiled, relieved. “That’s a good sign,” he said. “That means she’s out of danger.”

Madam Pomfrey stood and moved away, giving Draco room to place himself close to Hermione. He kissed her warming forehead, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger. Then he whispered against her skin, “Its fine now, love. Everything will be fine.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered, causing Draco to gasp in surprise. “That’s it, love. Come back to me.”

Dumbledore stepped up behind them, watching carefully as Hermione’s eyes fluttered halfway open. Her breathing was steadier and she seemed to be on the road to recovery.

Draco was ecstatic. He now had his hands on either side of her face, his eyes smiling down into hers. “Hello, beautiful,” he whispered. “How do you feel?”

“Draco…” she whispered weakly, “protect… protect… the hall… portraits.”

Her eyes fluttered shut again.

Draco’s smile faded. He shook her face gently. “Love, listen to me. Release Those-That-Dwell-Below. Release them now. Only you can do it.”

But he received no more response.

“She needs to sleep, Lord Malfoy. But I am happy to say she is recuperating. We must let her awaken on her own. Her body knows what it needs,” Madam Pomfrey stated.

Draco kissed her forehead once more and stood, looking from Pomfrey to Dumbledore. “She’s worried,” he said, beginning to pace. “Do you suppose the vampires know?” he asked, directing this last question to Dumbledore.

“I do not know, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore replied. “But it is possible.”

Draco stopped pacing and looked at Hermione’s sleeping figure. “Protect her with your life, Professor. I must fulfill her request.” He took out his wand and walked quickly from the room hoping he could get passed Bugger’s magical barriers to the Hall of Portraits.

Damn that Demetrius Baranov! Draco cursed himself for not seeing through his charm. Historian indeed! Asking all those questions about Marlston at his dinner party. Oh, yes, Harry had better save that bastard for him. No one makes a fool out of a Malfoy!

OOOOOOO

Sybilla hissed in anger. Every room they ran into upstairs had the same bars over them.

“Blast it!” she shrieked. She turned on Demetrius, jabbing a pointed finger at his chest. “This is entirely your fault. If you hadn’t wasted precious moments retrieving your sister, we’d have been well on our way by now.”

“And leave Katrina to suffer?” Demetrius spat. “I told you you’ll get nothing from me if anything should ever happen to her!”

“Demetrius, listen!” Katrina gasped, looking up at the ceiling. The house had stopped groaning and creaking.

Suddenly the bars over the window began lifting, dissolving into nothingness. The three of them made noises of astonishment. This was exactly what they needed.

“The Marlston brat is recovering. Quickly, let’s go,” Sybilla called out. She had turned towards the bar less window, ready to break through with her preternatural speed. The height of being on the second story did not deter her at all, since vampires could control the speed of their drops with ease.

She raced towards the window in a flash but, to her incredulous surprise, was met by a solid wall. She jumped back, looking unbelievably at the wall that was just a window a moment before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” a voice said from behind her. “Are the Baranovs so anxious to leave, they’d try to run through walls?”

Sybilla spun about, realizing that they were trapped.

Harry stood a few yards within the room, a gang of his followers smirking knowingly behind him.

Sybilla and Demetrius stood in awe of the power of the Dark Lord. He barely resembled the polite young man they had met earlier. He was now darker, his features distorted as if they could barely contain the power pulsing through his veins.

Katrina took one glance at Harry and threw herself down at his feet.

“Mercy, have mercy on us, my Lord,” she sobbed. “My brother and I were forced to do these things. It was her!” Katrina held up her arm and pointed at Sybilla, anguish and loathing written on her tearful face. “She planned it all! She’s evil!”

Sybilla snarled at Katrina. “You ungrateful little bitch!” She leapt towards Katrina and immediately found Demetrius knocking her off balance from the side. Both vampires ending up tangled on the floor.

“Enough!” Harry commanded, his voice ringing with an echolike quality. He lifted his hand and the two vampires flew apart, both knocking into opposite walls. Harry twisted his wrist, making a fist. In response, iron hands extended from the walls on both sides of the room, grabbing the vampires on their arms and legs and pinning them securely to the walls.

“No!” cried Katrina. “Don’t hurt Demetrius, he is good, my Lord. He is good!”

Gregory Goyle, who had been standing to the left of Harry, sneered. “Good, eh? Look, my Lord, he’s glutted with blood. He’s the one who drank from Lady Marlston.”

“She’s a lying witch, my Lord,” Theodore Nott said, pointing at Katrina. “I say we torture her and the brother will tell us the truth.”

“No,” yelled Demetrius from the wall, “she’s innocent, please, don’t hurt her!”

Harry’s eyes met Demetrius’s, an exchange occurring that was not perceptible to anyone else in the room.

During this time, Sybilla calculated a quick plan in her mind.

“It is his entire fault, my Lord,” Sybilla said. “He gambled away all our family’s fortune, causing his poor father to wither away from anxiety. Then he concocted this plan, telling us that there were piles of gold just waiting to be had. He chose your Lady because he has been obsessed with her, ever since he heard she had returned to Marlston. He’s the one who drank her blood, not I! Is that not proof enough?”

Katrina stood quickly on her feet, facing Sybilla angrily. “Lies! You are not our mother! You are a monster!”

Katrina turned towards Harry, one finger pointed to the confined vampiress on the wall. “It was her, my Lord. Sybilla ruined our family. We were happy, thriving, until that… that… thing came into our lives. She killed our parents and announced she was now head of the Baranov family. She ruined our estates with her lavish lifestyle, threatening Demetrius with killing me if he ever went against her. Then… then she turned Demetrius into what he is.” She sobbed louder, remembering the awful and devastating look on her brother’s face when he realized he would no longer be human.

“All he’s wanted to do is protect me, my Lord,” Katrina sobbed, falling to her knees. “I am the last, the last Baranov.”

Now Sybilla began crying, tears of blood running down her pale cheeks. “Why do lie like this, Katrina? I have always been a loving mother to you!”

Harry began laughing spitefully. “So vampires are giving birth now, are they?” His followers laughed as well.

“This has been amusing, however, you both must die,” Harry announced.

Katrina screamed. “No!”

Harry reached down, grasping a fistful of Katrina’s hair. Bending and whispering in her ear, “Hush, now, little Baranov. Sleep and dream of happier days.”

Katrina fell limply to the ground in an enchanted slumber.

“Take her to a guest room and lay her on a bed,” Harry order. Theodore stepped forward and lifted Katrina in his arms. “Unmolested,” Harry added.

Theodore looked at Harry askew. “Of course, my Lord,” he replied. The rest of the followers moved out of the way for him.

“My Lord,” Demetrius Baranov finally spoke. “I will give up my existence for my crimes gladly, if you promise me that my sister will remain under your protection. She does not deserve to be punished.”

“I have already come to that conclusion, Count Baranov. I will find her a suitable husband,” Harry replied.

Demetrius breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Wizards! You disgust me!” Sybilla spat. “You think you’re better than others, that vampires are lower than you? Hah!” Her eyes were mad, crazed with anger of her impending death.

Harry turned his face towards her. “Silence!” Sybilla could no longer speak and her face raged even more in her indignation while she struggled against the iron hands holding her.

“You will die at dawn,” Harry announced. He turned around, ready to leave. He didn’t want to do anything to them without Draco watching. What fun would there be in that?

“My Lord,” Warrington said before Harry stepped through the door. “Is it all right if we have our fun with them?”

“Leave the Count alone,” Harry replied. “Do what you want with her,” Harry said, giving the angry vampiress one last smirk before he left the room.

Most of his followers left with him- except for the few that wanted to have a bit of sport.

OOOOOOOOO

Harry was making his way back to the library to check on Hermione when he passed the ballroom. Mrs. Weasley came bounding out of the doors in a panic, “Oh Harry, Ginny is missing. No one seems to know where she is!”

“Are you sure?” Harry replied.

“She wasn’t in the ballroom when the house went all wonky. My boys have been looking for her but…”

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. The vampires have been caught. She’s in no more danger. I’m sure she’s fine. Probably was out in the garden when the bars came down.”

“The garden?” Mrs. Weasley repeated. “Yes, yes, of course. She did go outside with the Zabini boy. Oh, thank you, Harry. We’ll search outside now that those wicked bars are gone. How is Hermione?”

“I’m going to check on her now,” he replied.

“Of course,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry looked at the group of his followers behind him. “Help find Ginny Weasley,” he ordered. They all nodded and left. Harry took off once again toward the library.

Waiting outside the library door were Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was looking peaked from his ordeal but he managed a slight bow in Harry’s direction.

“My Lord,” Lucius said.

“How do you feel?” Harry asked.

“Better, thank you for asking,” came the reply. “The Baranovs?”

“Captured and awaiting their execution at dawn,” Harry replied.

“Ah, that is well,” Lucius said. “I look forward to it.”

The library door opened and Dumbledore slowly emerged, looking at Harry carefully. “Harry?” he said, as if testing for an imposter.

“How is Hermione?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore hesitated before answering. Something just didn’t feel right. Why was Harry so calm? Why wasn’t he rushing in to check on Hermione? Dumbledore knew how deeply Harry felt for her.

Why wasn’t Harry inquiring about Draco?

“Hermione is recovering well. She awoke for a few moments but then fell into a deep slumber,” Dumbledore answered. “The blood restorative potion is doing its job.”

“Very well,” Harry nodded. He walked passed Dumbledore into the library. He saw Poppy Pomfrey and said, “You may go now. I’ll watch over her.”

“Of, course, Mr. Potter,” Poppy said, rising from her seat and leaving the library.

Harry followed her to the door, his eyes locking with Dumbledore’s as he slowly closed everyone out.

OOOOOOO

Draco made his way down the various corridors leading to the entrance of the hall of portraits. Strangely, Bugger’s safeguards seemed to have faded. Had Hermione somehow sensed this? The wall barriers that should have blocked his way were now completely gone.

He was thinking that perhaps he needed to set some guards in the halls when he rounded the last corridor to the entrance. He stopped in his tracks for a moment when he noticed a man approaching from the other direction, holding a young woman’s hand. As they got closer, Draco noticed it was Blaise and Ginny Weasley.

“Blaise?” Draco said, “What are you doing wandering about?”

Blaise stopped walking, surprised to see someone standing before him. He looked at Ginny and tried to imagine what they might look like together.

“M…Draco,” Blaise replied. “What do you want?”

Draco laughed. “What do I want? I live here. No one is supposed to be in this part of the house. How did you end up here?” His eyes traveled over to Ginny, who seemed very quiet and docile. Not the Weasley chit he remembered her to be. “What’s going on here?”

Snape looked about nervously. Should he just put the nosy little brat prince away or should he play along? What was the most prudent thing to do?

“Were you trying to find a place to shag?” Draco laughed. He fully expected Ginny to get indignant and throw some scathing comment back at him, but she just stood there as if she were…

The realization dawned on Draco at that moment. “Blaise, you bastard, you placed the Imperius curse on her, didn’t you? Are you mad? Harry will skin you alive! Tell me you haven’t shagged her yet!”

Draco watched, surprised as Blaise lifted his wand. He quickly lifted his own and both wizards took defensive positions. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Blaise?” Draco snapped, not understanding his best friend’s actions in the least. “You want to duel over this? You stupid idiot! There are any number of witches in that ballroom that would fuck you for a smile and you have to pick the virgin who’s like a sister to the Dark Lord. You want to duel me over this? You prick!”

“You can’t begin to understand, Malfoy,” Snape answered. “I don’t want to harm you, but you give me no choice. Stupefy!”

Draco deflected the spell with his own wand. “Fuck you, Blaise. I might have helped you out of this mess, but you deserve some pain now. Crucio.”

Snape quickly yanked Ginny in front of him, letting her take the energy of the curse. Ginny cried out in pain, her legs giving way, as Snape held her around the waist against his body, facing Draco.

Draco immediately stopped the curse. “You fucking coward, Blaise. You let a witch take your curse for you? I used to think you were a gentleman. I see was I greatly misled.”

Snape pointed his wand at Ginny’s head while his other arm held her tight. “Enough of this,” he snapped. “You will help me, or she will die.”

Draco looked at Blaise, uncomprehendingly. Had he really gone mad? This was nothing like the Blaise he knew all these years. “What is it you expect me to do?” Draco asked, perplexed.

“Open the Hall of Portraits, take me down to Merlin,” Blaise answered, jabbing Ginny’s head with the tip of his wand and causing her to whimper in pain.

Draco’s mouth almost fell open. “How do you know about the Hall of Portraits, and Merlin? Who the fuck told you these things?” Draco began to wonder if Hermione and Harry had confided in Ginny while he was gone. He knew that Ron knew. Had Ron blabbed it to his family? Probably.

But why would Blaise lose his mind over it even if he did find out? None of this made sense.

“Open it!” Blaise snapped, grasping Ginny tighter in his anger.

Not that Draco cared much about Ginny Weasley, but the two people he loved the most in the world certainly did. He scowled at Blaise. “You won’t get far, fucker,” Draco said, scathingly. “We can only cross the bridge if Hermione is with us, not to mention all the other pitfalls. Don’t be stupid, Blaise.”

“I’ve passed all those little barriers before,” Blaise said. “I can do it again.”

Draco looked at him at if he was mad. “You’ve… what? Blaise? What the fuck?” Then another realization came over young Lord Malfoy, something that now made perfect sense.

“Very clever, Professor,” Draco said. “You’ve managed to take over Blaise’s body. How unfortunate for him.”

Snape was getting impatient. “Open it now!” he ordered, jabbing his wand once more onto Ginny’s head.

Draco face became a mask of stone as he turned towards the wall, hating that he was put in such a position. If only Hermione could release Those-That-Dwell-Below. They’d kick Snape out of that body and send him back down where he belonged.

But once they passed the Hall of Portraits, Those-That-Dwell-Below would not be able to interfere. He would have to depend on the Amazon for help. But with Ginny in danger…

As he muttered the spell to open the Portrait Gallery, the door began to slide open and the candles gleamed from their positions on the walls. Draco did not like to visit this place since the last time he was down there with Snape, Merlin, Hermione, Dumbledore and Bugger. And the reason he did not like it was sitting in a portrait above him to the right.

The night Mordred had taken over his body was a cold and frightening ordeal, and he still could remember his own soul floating in a black void, wondering if he would ever be human again or move on to some other place. It frightened him to think that he’d be stuck in the dark nothingness forever.

Then he thought about Blaise. Was Blaise there now, in that black void?

“Go!” Snape barked, urging Draco through the doorway.

Draco paused and looked up at Mordred. Just how far do you go to help a friend?

Snape stepped into the Hall, remembering the trouble he had last time he went through this place. He wanted to get through it as quick as possible. “Hurry,” he snapped. Some of the portraits were beginning to awaken further down and were now inquiring about their visitors.

Snape glared at Draco, wondering why he wasn’t moving. Why was he staring at a portrait….

“On second thought,” Snape decided quickly, “I don’t need you after all. Petrificus Totalis!”

He watched satisfied as Draco fell over, petrified by the spell. Then he glanced up at the portrait of Mordred. “You won’t stop me this time,” Snape smirked in satisfaction.

He hurried on, trying his best to soothe the portraits so as to avoid the bloody mess he got into last time.

“Who are you? What have you done to young Lord Malfoy?” one portrait asked.

“He’s perfectly fine. We are best friends. Just a little disagreement,” Snape said. “I wanted to show my girlfriend all your portraits.”

“Halt!” a voice echoed throughout the Hall. Snape turned around, Ginny now being pulled along by hand.

Draco now stood at the end of the Hall.

“That’s impossible,” Snape muttered. No one could recover from being petrified at that rate.

Snape glanced up towards Mordred’s portrait. It was now empty!

A portrait to the right of Snape began laughing. “It’s not impossible… for Mordred!”


OOOOOO

A/N Oh no! What will happen to poor Blaise’s body?

Hope you enjoyed that chapter. I tried to stick a bit of mystery in there. You now know what happened to the Baranov family, but is there something else? The clues are there.

Sorry about the lack of sex, but I promise you some hotness is definitely coming.

Please let me know your thoughts and feelings. I’ll try to get the next chapter to you sooner. Thanks!